May 7, 2013

little green parasols...



Yves Tanguy, photomaton, boulevard des Italiens, Paris, 1928.

calendar booth Moon

she shuns
mercury's rise
for days
she wants balance
and silver plated tidal bays
the tapestry sonar of bats
she loves getting into caves
casing maple blossom shine
in the springtime
she jars what she finds
each year there’s
a little more dust
and dusk
than the last
one passed

she is the orbit
and the pane
and the view
you mastered
when lending
all the faces
of who you
want to be
banking on the stars
and their dead light society
to come back here
year after year
where you try
to remember
all the names
you crawl into
the dark with

EJR ©

6 comments:

  1. This is incredible...and incredibly beautiful.

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  2. oy what an end...all the names you crawl into the dark with...perhaps trying to fill the void of her....

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  3. This grabbed hold of me and spun me around. I loved it.

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  4. That's pretty great right there.

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  5. I, too, really like that ending. Great poem!

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  6. This is really gorgeous. I can't pick just one line. They're all so lovely.

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